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She didn't say a word and I left, red-faced, swearing never to return to her store, not able to face her certain rejection. I went back to my apartmen... and, once inside, immediately drew out my hard cock and stroked to the memory of her haggard face and sweet cleavage, perhaps it was the contrast between the two that made me want her so very badly, and now I was worried that she might even call the cops, accuse me of harassment, and thinking how fucking stupid it was to give her a handwritten. Where was the mirror? A large, gold framed mirror had been over the sink for eight years. My wife had picked it and I put it in when we bought the house. As my eyes got used to the glare, what I could see wasn't my bathroom. A room that looked like a warehouse instead, and people in strange clothing moving around, some with very large heads that looked almost insectile. What looked like compound eyes, but were helmets of some kind. Strange instruments with flashing lights everywhere. I blinked. John sat on the settee in the front part of that shop and I was in fitting-room at the rear with the old shopkeeper, who now was all over me and helping me to take off my own clothes. I hesitated at first, but he persuaded me to do what he asked. He helped me remove the shirt that I was trying on and also my tight top under the shirt. I felt his hands on my back and he praised me on my lovely body, my nice white and so smooth skin. I must have been blushing as he gave me lots of compliments. Ginger’s slick moisture coated my erect tip. It was as if it was readying it for my entrance. It just felt natural. In a very slow manner, I punctured Ginger’s hot wet opening, only pushing my cock’s head into her. She gulped heavily as my erect head filled her and her vaginal muscle gripped it tightly as it acclimated itself to me being inside her once again. Once Ginger relaxed from the initial jolt, her inner muscle loosened, enabling me to sink all the way into her hot pliable slickness. I.
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